


Aviophobia

by ReformedTsundere



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Airplanes, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aviophobia, M/M, Scared of flying, This is supposed to be fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 04:45:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8149502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReformedTsundere/pseuds/ReformedTsundere
Summary: Leonard McCoy hates flying.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the lovely pasha-mccoy at tumblr. I don't speak Russian, all the Russian is taken off of google translate so please don't kill me too much for it not being accurate.

Leonard McCoy popped two white rectangular-shaped pills into his mouth, his leg jiggling up and down uncontrollably as he waited for the boarding to start.

God, he _hated_ flying.

His hands were sweating, cold and clammy, nails digging into his palms, his pulse was thumping erratically against his skin.  He was going to throw up, he was sure. If he had Leonard was sure that Jim would have laughed.

Leonard rubbed a hand over his face, the shadow of a beard growing into place made him grimace, he’d been too nervous that morning to shave or put on more than a pair of ratty pants and large sweatshirt.

The stewardess at the gate flicked a switch on and the microphone buzzed to life, Leonard felt another wave of uncontrollable nausea tumble through his stomach.

Finally, it seemed like the airline was ready to start him on his journey to cardiac arrest. They began to board.

Leonard grabbed his duffle bag and small backpack he’d been clutching in his lap. The Xanax hadn’t kicked in yet, though he hadn’t expected it to. Anytime the doctor stepped foot on a plane he was drugged up and asleep by mid-fight. Leonard knew he still had roughly thirty minutes before the effects would even show signs.

The boarding was one of the hardest parts. It was one thing to say that he was going to get on the plane, another thing completely to actually do it.

He practically had to close his eyes in order to trick the uncontrollable anxiety in his body. Stepping through over the docking area and into the plane was like sealing his fate every time. Another two years off his life every time he did it.

His seat was far in the back, closest to the bathroom and he’d chosen the seat furthest from the window. Unfortunately for him the plane was small so there were only two seats in each section. Still too damn close to the outside his brain protested at him, too close to the inevitability of death.

There were people pushing all around the isle, either trying to get behind Leonard’s seat or shuffling back and forth down the plane, trying to find a stewardess to help them find their seats. 

That only served to increase the nagging little voice in the back of Leonard’s head, the one that said they were all going to die. The movement and loud voices of the other passengers made Leonard twitchy, his hands shake just a little of his forehead break out into a sweat.

He needed to get off. He forced himself not to move from his seat.

Another five minutes of watching crying children cling to their parents and confused passengers getting more frustrated by the fact that their bags weren’t fitting into the overhead compartments, Leonard leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, willing the drugs in his system to work already, before take off if possible.

Leonard knew it would be a cold day in hell if that happened.

There was a shuffling sound close to where Leonard was trying to will away the nerves from his body, his leg was still tapping wildly when an accented voice broke him from his thoughts of impending doom.

“Um, excuse me…” Leonard looked up and almost lost all of the breath in his body.

Standing beside his seat was a man, no older than twenty-two, his hair was short on the sides, the top an unruly mess of curls. His shoulders broad but his body seemed smaller than Leonard’s own, more lithe with youth. He was wearing a large gray sweater and his jeans looked painted on. There were hemp bracelets on one wrist and a class ring on his middle finger. Leonard snapped his eyes up to his face - to the green-blue eyes of the other man.

“What?” The question was low and drawled, gruff with the tension from the flight still coursing through his veins. The younger man colored pink at the top of his ears.

“Zis is… uh… my seat…” The other pointed at the seat beside Leonard.

The doctor recognized the heavy accent now, Russian. Coupled with the kid's doe-ish eyes and frazzled, embarrassed expression, the older man softened just a little and stood from his chair.

The trickle of passengers was growing smaller as the blonde shimmied his way to the window seat. Leonard pretended he couldn’t feel the compact heat of his body while he passed.

Once the Russian was sat down Leonard also returned to his seat, leg resuming it’s shaking as he got “comfortable.”

The man sitting beside him pulled out a book from his bag and set it on his lap before buckling his belt.

Before Leonard even noticed the sign ordering him to fasten the seat belt had come on with a ding and the plane started to move. The sudden and dreadful noise and motion had him tensing up again, hands clutching at the armrests, breath starting to go short as he frantically searched for the plane exit with his eyes. He wondered if he had enough time to get off the fight, he could always hitchhike to San Francisco, it wouldn’t take too long, he could - 

“Nerwious flyer?” A soft voice to his right asked. Leonard snapped his head in the other man’s direction. The younger man was now wearing reading glasses, his book open in his lap, his eyes darting between Leonard’s face and his hand, the hand that the other man now noticed was not gripping the armrest, but was instead clasped tightly on the other’s thigh. Leonard snatched his hand back like it was on fire.

Leonard heard the vague musing of the flight attendants talking about safety procedures and the whole speel. His face was burning hot as the other watched him. Leonard nearly forgot he’d been asked a question before the scowl formed on his face.

“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’ aware we’re a couple of hundred people in a tin can flying thirty-thousand feet in the air.” He gruffed, shoulders tense as he pressed himself further back into his seat, watching the other man instead of the flight attendants helped to slow his breathing.

“Actually, it is closer, I zink, to zirthynine-zousand…” It took Leonard a moment to work out the numbers from the other’s accent and grabbed for his Xanax bottle and took the last pill.

The other man’s brows furrowed together, realizing that what he had said probably did not help Leonard’s nerves in the slightest.

“How many of zothes hawe you taken today?” Leonard could tell that the light haired brunette was worried. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn’t hard when he finally noticed that the plane was slowly picking up speed. The flight attendants had taken their seats.

“Three.” Leonard flicked his eyes from the Russian’s face to outside of the window that he should have closed before the other had arrived. He clenched his hands on the armrests again, this time making sure he wasn’t groping the other’s thigh. “In the last hour,” he choked out, the panic rising in the back of his throat again as he watched the airport zip past in the window.

“I do not zink zat is a wery good-”

“Listen, kid, I’m a doctor. I know how much I can-” Leonard cut himself off by the sudden lurch he felt in his stomach as the nose of the plane tipped up and they began to ascend.

He dug his nails into the armrest, the litany of " _we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die,"_ rolled off of his tongue in a terrified whisper. Leonard shut his eyes and pressed back, _hard_ , in his seat, his teeth clenched together.

Suddenly there was a soft warmth on his hand, taking his mind off the fact his ears were popping as they rapidly took to the sky. Leonard squinted to his right. The window was now closed and the other man was looking at him with a slightly bashful smile as he held Leonard’s hand, despite Leonard’s grip not growing any lighter. He had to be crushing the younger man’s hand. 

“It is alright. I too know vat it is like to be afraid.” Leonard doesn’t say anything, he also doesn’t take his hand back- the touch had somehow managed to calm the torrential wave of impending doom in his mind, if only a little.

The Russian blinked slowly at him as they said nothing. His ears turned pink again, as well as his cheeks. He also didn’t let go of Leonard’s hand.

“I am Chekov, Pavel Andreievich.” The name is the first thing that rolls smoothly from his mouth.

“Leonard. McCoy.” Leonard added his last name as an afterthought. 

They were quiet again but it was a little less awkward. After the pause in conversation, Chekov cleared his throat.

“If you do not mind me asking, vhat is it about flying zat makes you so…” Chekov paused, brows drawn together like he was searching for the word.

“Anxious.” Leonard supplied for him, teeth snapping together as the plane made a slight tilt to the side. “Probably the fact that at any moment, anything could go horribly wrong. An engine could catch fire, we could collide with another plane, what happens if the navigation system malfunctions and the pilots nosedive us right into a mountain?!” Leonard knew he was being eccentric, but the feeling of a thumb rubbing back and forth against the back of his slowly relaxing grip gave the scruffy doctor a point to fix on. His breath was stilling coming up short as the plane dipped in the other direction.

The small giggle that emitted from Chekov had Leonard glaring at him. He was rewarded with a blinding and amused smile. Leonard for a moment felt rather inadequate in his appearance, with his five o’clock shadow ghosting his chin, the rip in the knee of his jeans and his alma mater sweatshirt fraying at the sleeves.

“Ze odds of zis plane crashing are one to one-point-two million. Ze odds of dying, if we did crash, are one to elewen million.” Chekov smiled, like these were facts that were going to calm Leonard down, and they were not. They just made him try to calculate the probability of their flight being the one in one-point-two million and it made his stomach turn, he really wanted to throw up.

The Russian’s face slowly started to drop as he realized that he hadn’t made the situation any better.

“ Chert poberi.” The tone of voice Chekov’s voice made Leonard think he must have been swearing in his mother tongue.

Leonard tried to relax the grip he knew must be hurting Chekov’s hand but they hit an air pocket or something and Leonard had clenched his eyes shut and willed his Xanax to _just fucking work already!_

There’s a shuffling beside him and Chekov was opening his book one handed, the reading glasses slipping down his nose slightly as he bent his head to look at the passages.

Leonard opened one eye to watch the other shuffle for a page in the middle of the book. Another pocket of wind of Leonard let a small “god dammit” pass through his lips. His eyes closed tight. He didn’t catch Chekov’s concerned look, but he felt a small squeeze before a soft voice sounded beside him, the Russian falling easily from Chekov’s lips.

“Odnazhdy tam lezhal na beregu ozera nebol'shoy gladkiy kamen'...” Chekov stopped when he realized that Leonard  had opened his eyes and was watching him. The younger man flushed again and Leonard couldn’t help but find it rather… endearing. “I was scared of storms ven I vas a child. My mama would read to me and I vould not be as scared.”

Leonard took a moment to absorb before shaking his head.

“I’m a little old to be read to.” Chekov leveled him with a disapproving expression and suddenly Leonard felt very chastised. “Fine,” he huffed, “you wanna read, be my guest. I’ll just sit here, waiting for a bird to fly into a turbine and the plane to plummet to the ground.” There was a small laugh from his right but Leonard closed his eyes again. He found it often helped.

“K kamnyu sidela malen'kaya devochka, derzha tsvetok v ruke …”

Leonard couldn’t remember the exact moment he relaxed into his chair or when his grip softened and his fingers laced with Chekov’s. He couldn’t remember when his head started to lull to the soft voice the followed to him. Leonard didn’t remember falling asleep.

About thirty minutes into reaching steady altitude, a stewardess began her trek down the aisle of the plane, filling drinks and answering questions. She reached the back of the plane and stopped short in her tracks. She couldn’t keep the smile from her face. Cuddled against one another were two men; one visibly older, his head laying atop the younger’s, their hands clasped together over the seat and the younger man’s glasses threatening to fall from his nose into the open book on his lap. If she wouldn’t get in trouble, the stewardess would have snapped a picture of the couple.

Leonard was jerked awake from his sleep as his stomach felt the weight of the plane descending. For a moment he panicked, his mind telling him that his worst fears were coming true, they were crashing, they were all going to die. But then there was a gentle thumb pressing lightly against his knuckles and Leonard had to look up into the green-blue eyes of the Russian sitting next to him.

Chekov was smiling slightly, the book once open in his lap now closed and the glasses he’d been wearing hooked onto the collar of his sweater.

“Ve are landing wery shortly.” Leonard nodded, he can’t say anything. He hadn’t remembered a flight, ever in his entire life going so smoothly. Of course, he’d have to give a lot of the credit to the pills he’d pumped into his system, but Leonard couldn’t recall the last time he’d fallen asleep and stayed asleep through all the bumps and noise that he knew plane trips were riddled with.

“Right.” Leonard's brain finally came up with. He didn’t let go of Chekov’s hand, not until they were firmly on the ground, the plane no longer moving as it was docked in the terminal.

Somewhat reluctantly, Leonard released the Russian’s hand. Chekov flexed his fingers, a small grimace on his face as he realized, distantly, that his fingers had gone completely numb. It did not bother him much. 

Leonard’s hand had also suffered the same fate. If he’d been with Jim he might have complained. Then again Jim wouldn’t have held his hand the entire trip... at least not without teasing him the entire time.

Getting off the plane, while taking longer, was much easier than getting on to it. He and Chekov walked side by side, not saying anything as they marched through the docking area.

“So, uh,” Leonard had to clear his throat, he rubbed a hand through his messy hair. “Where ya headed?” Chekov cocked his head slightly and smiled.

“Baggage claim. And you?” Leonard felt his perpetual frown turn up slightly on one end.

“Same.” It was an unspoken decision that they walked together. After a few minutes of silence, Leonard tried to attempt small talk.

“So you here for business? Visiting friends?” He had wanted to ask if he was visiting a girlfriend or boyfriend more specifically, but he wasn’t that bold. Chekov continued to look forward, navigating them easily through the throng of people.

“Nyet, I live in ze city. I vas wisting a college, zey required help vith vheir robotics, I vas awalable.” He said it so nonchalantly that Leonard wanted to stop in the middle of the airport to process the information but didn’t, mostly because Chekov kept walking and he didn’t want to get left behind.

The younger man looked at Leonard with a sideline glance as the doctor caught up with him. 

“And yourself?” Chekov asked, the top of his ears coloring again in the way that never seemed to fail drawing Leonard’s attention.

“I live here too. I was at a conference that I couldn’t avoid getting out of.” Chekov smiled at that simply because of the way that Leonard complained, exaggerated eye rolls and eyebrow raises.

“Zat is good. You liwing here. I mean.” Leonard wanted to stop again because he knew this dance. They were possibly reaching flirting territory and Leonard wanted to make sure. Though one might think holding another man’s hand for nearly four hours might indicate some form of mutual attraction Leonard was someone who needed to know.

“And, uh, why’s that?” His head ducked as they finally reach baggage, waiting for their suitcases to get to them.

“Because I beliewe I vould like to see you again.” Leonard felt like his brain might be breaking a little. He’s dressed rattier than hell, he’d been a general sourpuss, and somehow it seemed like the younger man was propositioning him for a date. It made Leonard’s lips quirk up again.

“I’d like ta’ see you again too.” He smiled down at Chekov, the two looked at each other, both smiling before Leonard caught sight of his bag in his peripheral view. He broke eye contact and grabbed his bag, just as Chekov did the same. Leonard was unsure what to do until Chekov was digging around in one of the pockets of his bag. The Russian pulled out a purple felt-tip pen and Leonard reflectively stretched out his hand. Muscle memory from having to take notes while he was still a hospital intern.

Chekov grinned up at him, smile like the sun, warming Leonard to his bones as the younger man wrote out what Leonard could only hope were numbers.

Together, the two of them pick up their individual bags and head for where they could leave.

A crowd people were waiting at the doors airport entrance, most of them hugging people with suitcases, some holding signs.

And then Leonard saw Jim. And then Jim saw him. 

The grin that stretched over his face only served to worry Leonard further.

Then Jim held up his sign. Leonard groaned out loud, drawing Chekov’s attention to where Jim was standing.

On Jim’s sign, it bright pink glittery letters was the name “DR. MCSEXYPANTS.” A few people stopped to giggle or to gawk at the sign. Jim kept smiling, wiggling his eyebrows towards his friend.

“I’m gonna kill ‘em” Leonard gruffed through his teeth.

Beside him, a giggle fell from Chekov’s lips and Leonard turned red with embarrassment. Of course, Chekov had to see it.

“I’d understand if you’d like to cancel that date ya know.” Another giggle sounded from the other man who had to hold a hand over his mouth.

Chekov said nothing, simply stepping up on the tips of his toes, leaned forward and placed a soft and quick kiss to Leonard’s cheek. Never had the southerner been so speechless.

“I look forward to your call Leonard.” With that Chekov sauntered away towards two Asian men and a little girl, excitedly shouting “Pasha!” and waving.

Jim shuffled up beside him, shit eating grin plastered on his face. Leonard was in too good of a mood to try and punch it off him.


End file.
